AN: I know it took me forever, but I finally have time to write again. Thank you all for your patience, and hopefully the extra long chapter makes up a little for it. Thank you for reading.
Pulse pounding in her ears, Elphaba held her breath. Had they seen her? They must have. Her green skin wasn't exactly discrete. Oz, why hadn't she checked first? It's not like this was her first time. Footsteps echoed in the darkened hallway, and she flattened herself against the corner. Damn it. No complications, he'd said. In and out, no problems. Would knocking a few guards unconscious count?
She poised, but before she could spring on them, the footsteps retreated. "Told you it was nothing. Hurry up, I gotta take a leak."
She sank against the cold wall and tried to regain her bearings. The office would be on a higher floor, she guessed. And the stairs would be…there. She scanned the now vacant hallway and slipped into the shadowy recess.
Cautious now, she took each turn with a thorough sweep. Her vigilance proved moot. No one wandered the darkened stairwell or guarded any of its entrances. At the top, she edged from the shadows into the window-lined corridor. Also empty.
An anti-Animal poster blazed its propaganda in bright letters, and Elphaba's lip twitched. The sheets tacked around it pictured so-called criminals: outspoken but elusive Animals and the resistance fighters that protected them. She snatched at one, a crude sketch of a man she recognized who'd been caught and faced execution. Would her face hang here one day? Or her obituary?
The moon's silvery glow filtered through the large windows enough to show no security in sight. It must be on another floor. She started back toward the stairs when she saw lights flicker around the corner.
She hugged the wall and edged closer. The sudden lack of opposition made her nervous, but she convinced herself they vainly considered their outer security that impenetrable. That, or the Lurlinemas holiday left them lax and apathetic. What could a cold night of guard duty hold to a warm pint of cider?
After all the darkness, the bright office burned her eyes, and she had to squint to see what awaited her. A lone security guard manned the desk in front of the office, sipping coffee she hoped was spiked with eggnog. No such luck. Beyond alert, the man seemed almost robotic in his diligent scans. Every twenty seconds, cameras, hallway, other hallway, cameras again, back to his paper, sip of coffee. She watched for five aching minutes until her knees cramped from crouching so long, but after over a dozen repetitions, she felt safe in saying the routine wouldn't change.
Which would be great. Predictable. Incredibly helpful, if it gave her long enough to sneak past undetected. But twenty seconds? And without a sound… Could she do that? She worried her lip. Perhaps if she sprinted, but a streak of green barreling at him would catch the guard's attention for sure. Could she lure him out and knock him unconscious? Surely her superiors would understand one teensy injured guard.
A long, thick garland draped across the room, merrily proclaiming Happy Holidays, and it looked sturdy enough. She could climb. Or she could crawl past and just hope he didn't look down. She weighed her options. Neither seemed particularly promising. Her eyes flicked back and forth, until the guard made her decision for her.
He leaned close to the monitor, blinked, and looked up, not a foot from where she crouched.
She scrambled out of range and against the thin partition dividing the office. Would the guard come after her? That might give her the opportunity to sneak past if she had a diversion of some sort.
Oh, of course!
She grasped the end of the garland. The tinsel pricked her fingers as she twisted it in a tight spiral. She watched the rotations wind their way up and across until it reached the banner.
Then she let go.
The garland exploded in a furious spin, fluttering the banner against the wall with a loud slap. It teetered on its frenetic tether, the garland sliding through the loops that held it in place, and the entire assembly crashed to the ground. The guard jumped at the sudden noise and hissed as his coffee splashed onto his lap. He wiped at the wet spot and cursed the holidays with a hateful glare at the banner now limp on the ground.
Grumbling, he abandoned his post to address his burnt and soggy lap. She watched him leave, and boldly walked through, fighting a grin. Seems her luck couldn't be beat tonight. This had been one of her easiest missions to date.
She ignored both doors off the interior hallway and headed for the battered one at the end. It opened into a cramped workspace occupied mostly by a large steel desk. She ruffled through the various papers littering the surface, but found nothing of interest. The locked drawers she made quick work of with a letter-opener and an experienced hand.
The top drawer held pens, no use. The right one: stationary, typewriter ribbons and the like. She managed to shut it with some effort, crinkling the paper on top. Below that were files and receipts, all neatly labeled in odd juxtaposition to the chaotic drawer above it. The left one stuck, but she wiggled it loose, exposing its contents of correspondence, highlighted memos and active files.
Bingo.
She flipped through the letters and telegrams until she found the information in question. Braving the overflow, she stole a blank page and copied the information in a scribble of code. As she wrote, she committed the location to memory. Paper could be lost, or damaged, or taken. Memory made for a more indelible backup.
Provided she survived.
"What's the matter with you?" The approaching voices drew her attention, and she hurriedly returned the letter to its drawer. "You didn't even check?"
She scanned the cramped quarters for any place to hide. But the tiny room offered little hope. They'd reached the door, and Elphaba knew her luck had run out.
"No complications, you were told."
The disembodied shadow shrugged, its lion mask bobbing oddly in the darkness. "What other option did I have?"
"There are always options." The twisted feather mask glinted dully as he turned to face her. "Fae?" Elphaba reported the location, still coded, to her superior. "Were you seen?"
"Almost, but I evaded. They'll have suspicions, but no proof."
The scowl eased from his feathers. "You could learn a lot from her, Gau."
Gau's thick chin thrust out. "Done is done. What's another dead guard? One less Animal-hating bastard in the world is fine with me. Won't trouble my conscience any."
"Until your insolence costs you your life! Or worse, exposes us all. How would your conscience be then?"
"It's his third mission. He's still green," she interjected, if nothing but to save their director's blood pressure. "He'll learn, or he'll die."
Gau snorted at her and bit out a snide, "You of all people call me green?" She tensed, afraid at first he'd seen her true skin, but he continued, "You're a girl! At least I've lived long enough to grow some hair on my chest."
"As appealing as that sounds, I've no sudden desire for a hairy chest, nor a brain the size of yours, gorilla."
"Enough." The feather mask scrunched into a snarl of aggravation. "Luq, report."
A thin whip of a black sauntered forward, the low light gleaming off his impractical porcelain. "Done."
"No complications?"
"Taken care of."
"Good." The lieutenant turned to the final shadow. "Vir?"
The wiry operative shuffled forward, eyes downcast. "Unsuccessful." He winced, but at the lieutenant's glare, he continued. "The plane was boarded with more than we'd anticipated, and by the time I found the right man, the opportunity had passed. I'd have been exposed, so I withdrew." Gau muttered a disparaging comment that was ignored. "I did manage to confiscate a crate of explosives from the hold, but I failed the primary objective."
"A passable consolation prize."
Vir straightened with a surprised look. "But Zephyr-"
The lieutenant held up a hand. "You were right to wait. Another opportunity will present itself, and we'll be ready."
He nodded, still taken aback, and without complaint, withdrew to the shadows.
Fae stood to receive the next mission briefing, but Zephyr drew on his gloves. She tensed. "It seems," he spoke slowly, eyes on his hands as he smoothed the soft black leather over each finger, "we have a problem with an operative's discretion."
Gau paled. "Look, I'll try harder. I didn't think it would matter that much. Please. Give me another chance."
"Not you," Zephyr snapped, and then his control returned. "A certain operative has felt too compelled by his old life to honor the new. You know we're forbidden contact with our former acquaintances. You chose this life, and with it comes sacrifice. It's reckless to return, even for family. You're dead to them." He'd reached the last finger. "Command ordered the breach sealed."
A sudden motion dragged her attention to Luq as he spun on his heel to run, but he barely reached three steps before the silenced thump of Zephyr's gun cut through the night.
"Now, missions." Zephyr handed out the next briefs, stepping over the spreading pool of blood to reach Vir. He glanced down at his watch, ticking away the thirty seconds they had to review their files.
Elphaba glanced through hers, memorizing the location, intel and objective. Recover what appeared to be a reshaped gear, for what reason she couldn't say. Wouldn't it be easier to have a blacksmith bend any ordinary, readily-found gear? Why all the trouble of stealing one? And with the bold lettered warning, "Do Not Be Seen," wouldn't it be preferable not to risk discovery? Never mind what this part might possibly be combined into.
She knew it was bad timing, but when Zephyr collected her file, she couldn't help asking, "Why this piece?"
He eyed her coldly, and without a glance at the body of his former operative, he stated, "Questions like that are the first step toward ending up dead."
Elphaba adjusted the thin strap of her dress and eyed the nightclub that housed her objective. The file held little detail, but the wild club scene provided enough cover for her own observations. A thin, ill-kempt man eyed her approach from his place at the door. "Nice dress, honey."
She kept walking.
"Wouldn't like a nice set of diamonds, would you? Or a shiny bauble? Cheap." He offered a box with an odd collection of no doubt stolen jewelry. The fence held up an emerald pendant set in porcelain and grinned. "Matches your…eyes."
The image of Luq's porcelain mask, cracked and bloody, sprung to mind, and she shoved the box back in his hands. "No thanks. Not my color." The fence started to protest, but she pushed past him.
She stalked into the club, fighting the memory. The Resistance might seem brutal, but sometimes the ends justified the means. Oz knows, the Wizard was a thousand times more brutal, and she couldn't fault them for fearing exposure. Who would stand up to oppression if the Resistance were dismantled?
"Whiskey, neat."
She studied the club while the bartender poured her drink. It was larger than she'd expected, and crammed full of drunken patrons bobbing along to the throbbing bass line's beat. Beyond the bar a shallow hallway led to the bathrooms, but the back hallway seemed much more promising. She took her drink and palmed him the cash.
With her prop now, she mingled through the crowd, cutting around the dance floor when a hand caught her elbow from behind. "Hey there, beautiful." She jerked free, but an arm slipped around her waist. "One dance, and I'll change your life."
She scoffed, "Well, then I'd better resist. Let go of me."
"Wait, Elphaba? Is that you? Oz, you look good in dim lighting."
She spun around in disbelief. Avaric. A friend of a friend, and an insufferable one at that. She hadn't seen him since her days at Shiz, a lifetime ago. "As flattering as that is, I'm afraid you're mistaken." He grabbed her wrist before she could get away, and though she shook him off, he followed her off the floor. "Look, I'm not who you think. Leave me alone."
"Nice try. I'd recognize that ass anywhere. It's me, Avaric."
Cursed idiot. Of all people, he's the one she couldn't bluff? "A memorable ass as well, though not in the same manner. What do you want?"
"Get a drink with me. Let's catch up. You look…"
"Green? Like an Artichoke? A string bean in a dress? What so-called witty name are you going to call me this time?"
"So you do remember me?" He laughed. "Oz, you look great."
"And you look obnoxious. Leave me alone."
"Not until you have a drink with me." She brandished her whiskey at him, but he waved a hand. "Another. Come on, what'll it hurt?"
"Aren't you afraid the green is catching?" she hissed, throwing his old line back at him.
He laughed and leaned close to whisper, "Want to see if some will rub off on me?"
"As crude as ever, I see."
"And you're as intoxicating."
"Intoxicating? Must be the green making you seasick."
He grinned. "Then let's get you somewhere without these pesky lights."
"Ugh, look you miserable cretin, you're vile and disgusting and-"
"You want me." He trailed a finger to her chin. "Admit it."
"Want to murder you! Leave me alone!" She shoved him hard enough to topple him into the pair behind and tip her drink. Before he could recover, she stormed off, mindful of the eyes following her across the room. So much for a low profile. She retreated to the bathroom to dry off her dress and let the spectacle die down.
She slunk out after she'd counted the tiles covering the floor, and walls, and ceiling. Twice.
Mere steps from her hiding place, Avaric caught her eye from across the bar. He started toward her, and she ducked behind a couple of burly men. They stared at her, and she flashed a smile. "Um, excuse me." With a confused frown, the men went back to their conversation. She peeked over their shoulders to see him scanning the crowd for her. Good. He'd lost sight of her.
She snuck across the room until she reached the cover of the back hallway. Finally, she could get some work done.
The dim light revealed a storage closet, boxes of liquors, the delivery exit, and a stairwell leading down. A couple guards lounged at the base of the stairwell. How best to get past them for a look? She'd decided on the tried and true bathroom excuse when the clink of falling metal drew her to the storage closet. The basement housed some sort of illicit activity, but the file hadn't specified the gear was down there. She should at least be thorough.
She crept toward the closet, and listened carefully to see if anyone else waited inside. Nothing. Her hand reached the doorknob when Avaric strode in the dim hallway. She flattened herself into the corner and eased the door open to slip inside. He strode toward the stairwell purposefully until he caught sight of her. His eyes widened, but then he grinned. "There you are."
"Get away from me," she hissed. They would be caught for sure. Damn, damn Avaric! She'd have to scrap tonight and come back later, when Captain Horny wasn't hanging around.
"Aw, come on. Give me a chance."
"Check it out. I'll stay here." The guard clopped up the stairs, and Elphaba glared at her pursuer.
"Now you've done it."
Avaric glanced from the steps to her. "Kiss me." The urgency in his voice was wrong, not the desperation she'd expect but an emotionless pragmatism. "Quick."
"No such luck."
"Why do you always have to be so stubborn?" he groused. He hauled her to him tightly and crashed his lips into hers.
She shoved him away, hard, and slapped his face with all her strength. "What the hell is the matter with you? I'd rather eat live scarab beetles than kiss you. You're a repulsive, depraved, awful little toad, and I have absolutely no interest in you, nor will I ever. Leave me alone!"
"Ouch." She whirled to face the chuckling guard. "Tough luck, buddy."
Avaric shrugged, "Had to try."
"Alright. Out we go." Elphaba flashed him a smug smirk until the guard reached for her, too.
"What? Why do I have to leave? He's the one who attacked me."
"My cheek would say otherwise," Avaric complained, and she shot him a glare.
The guard clamped a hand on each of their arms. "Out. Before anything gets broken." He hauled them through the exit into the alley beyond.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. She leaned close, widened her eyes and licked her lips. "Please don't make me leave. I was having so much fun." She batted her eyelashes with practiced efficiency, an image of her old roommate floating forward in her memory. "Isn't there any way you could make a little exception for me? I'd be ever so grateful."
The guard laughed again. "Sorry honey. Barking up the wrong tree. Now if he were to ask…" He winked at Avaric, who sported a flustered blush. "Better luck next time." He stepped back inside, and they heard the telltale click of a lock.
"I'd be ever so grateful," Avaric mocked in a squeaky voice. "Ugh. Could you get more desperate?"
"Says the one who got me kicked out for trying to grope me in the hallway."
"Me? You're the one who slapped me!"
She leaned in and snarled, "Working for another?"
"They'll certainly remember us now. So much for coming back tomorrow." No kidding. Even if she waited weeks, with her unique skin, it wasn't practical. She'd have to report the mission a failure, let some other operative try. He sighed, "Damn."
"Oh, I'm sure you can find some other place to drink away your charming personality."
"Better mine than yours. Still a prudish shrew, huh?"
"If you hate me so much, maybe you can stay the hell away from me this time." She stalked toward the street, and he followed. She whirled on him, "I said, leave me alone!"
"Settle down there, bitchy. This is the only way out of the alley. Trust me, I am itching to get the hell away from you before you cause any more damage."
"Me?"
He huffed a sigh. "Let's not start this again. I'm going right. You go left. This day will be just a very bad memory."
"Why do I have to go left?"
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Which way do you need to go?"
"Left. But you shouldn't be so presumptuous."
His fists clenched, and for a moment, she felt a surge of enjoyment at goading him. "Fine," he ground out. "You go your way, and I'll go the opposite. Happy?"
"Thrilled." She crossed her arms. "And you'd better not follow me."
"Not to worry. You're one face I never want to see again."
"Likewise."
She was late to the debriefing. Cursed bottle of scotch. Her head ached, and she wanted nothing more than to forget yesterday had happened. All night she'd been plagued with memories of a life long past, friends too far gone to miss.
Zephyr clutched the new stack of files, glaring at her as she sidled in. "Sorry," she murmured, and Vir continued his report. A new shadow haunted where Luq had stood, so similar in build that it disoriented her. Was his ghost haunting them now? Or was she hallucinating? A symptom of all the stress.
No, the new figure seemed thicker, if still trim. More muscular. But something about it bothered her memory. He seemed familiar, almost, if shadows could be.
"Fae, report."
"Unsuccessful." She started to elaborate, but the new operative shook his head in warning. She squinted closer, and with a rush of understanding, she recognized him.
Avaric.